These Eyes
by Libido
Summary: Who knew that the part of himself that had brought him the most pain would get blamed for something so nice? Alec/Magnus ONESHOT.


**Disclaimer**: Own nothing. I think this is where I claim I could do a better job of writing stuff than Ms. Clare, but, uh. I'd probably get too hooked up on the physical aspect of everything, so..

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At first, Magnus wasn't sure if he could ever love his eyes. Once he reached the age where he stopped growing, it hit him- really hit him, even more so than when his own parents had rather die than be with him any longer- that these eyes... _These eyes_ were the reason behind his misfortune. Had he been born with normal eyes, he would have been able to control the situation, no doubt. His powers could have remained hidden. Every once in a while he would go out to blow off some steam, but that would be no big deal in the least, right? Then he'd be back, totally fine. Totally... human. But these eyes distracted the world from his humanity. They told clearly the bitter truth of his existence. Like the other warlocks and witches in the world, he was a mutt. Not quite angelic enough to be human, too good to be demonic. Never good enough for, say, a Shadowhunter. And these eyes were the bane which brought him connection with the Children of Lilith. At the start of his immortal life, Magnus Bane realized he would have given anything for normalcy, at least in his eyes.

It was a far step from the Bane which was more commonly known, this upset, frustrated being who hated himself and everything he stood for whenever he stood in the mirror. All warlocks go through it, this certain time when they thought that they were just... hideous. Hardly human, not really demonic, outcasts. Misfits from Downworlders or those angelic beings known as the Nephilim. It's at this point where some decide what sort of witch or warlock they will become. In order to fit in, many usually go to one side or the other, all using their powers... generally, for their own gain, financially. After all, if you live forever, you need to have enough money for forever, right? So many employ their services more specifically to Downworlders, some opt to ally themselves with the Clave, hoping, foolishly, that by helping and serving them loyally with minimal costs, they'll somehow be protected. Not unlike a bar allowing the mafia to use their services for cut fees, in return for protection against all manner of other ugly little mobs around the town. Of course, the Clave never took these warlocks and witches for protecting, even when their work was beyond exemplary.

No, when trouble came to their door, they just allowed them to be slaughtered, like the cold-hearted race they are. Bane moved from his old farm- Which he had stayed at, despite the horrible memories made there. It was useful in its own, secluded way.- to the city. A new city, claimed to be almost the center of the up and coming world as it was known at the time. New York. It was then, after living silently for a while, that he grew bored. His powers had been honed, he knew what had to happen... And he refused to play one side or the other. No, no. He would play both, and get paid well. His only goings-on with other species were either for his own entertainment, or his own financial gain. He would become the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

It took a while for Bane to become High Warlock of Brooklyn, of course. Such things like that don't happen overnight. It some ritual ruining of the warlocks and witches in power, some further honing of his skills, and a couple exclusive jobs done exceedingly well. But in the grand scheme of things- One hundred years, two?- it wasn't very long. Not when you would live until you were killed personally, anyway. Immortality was a funny thing that way. Occasionally, Magnus attempted to fit in. Again, those eyes sealed his fate as an outcast... And again, he found himself sliding into nonexistence, hating the eyes and everything that came with them. For a while, the High Warlock of Brooklyn wasn't so high, and of all the times that someone could have taken him down, that would have been it. No one did, and luckily it gave him the time and opportunity to regain his sense of self. How did he fix this reoccurring problem? After all, it would do no good for this to continue and for all his hard work to be for nothing, just because he was feeling a little bit down in the dumps. Magnus's answer? Lie to himself. Build himself up to be the highest person in the world, become extraordinarily vain, egotistical, sarcastic... Maybe, eventually, he would believe it himself. Maybe, eventually, he could look at himself in the mirror and not hate the face that had destroyed an entire loving home with just the eyes. After a couple of years... it worked.

Keeping people at arms length, but having a lot of 'associates'? It helped keep his mind off things. He had a lot of pointless flings, said a lot of useless words, went to bed with plenty of creatures and people of all kinds. Of course, nothing ever lasted- Magnus wouldn't allow it to. He had, essentially, gotten over his past. True, it was by way of lying, but he was still over it. However, some little part inside of him still thought that maybe, maybe, if he loved someone... unlike him, and they loved him, well... Who knows what the consequences would be. Warlocks and witches were always considered untouchable by anyone but themselves. To demons they were too good, to Shadowhunters they were considered too disgusting and tainted... Well, the best bet to have a relationship with would be a mundane, but they were so, horribly _blind_... It would be impossible for an increasingly-spontaneous and impulsive warlock to have a relationship with one of those creatures. But after a little while, all woes and worries about his eyes were forgotten. He could look in the mirror for hours on end, comb a hand through his hair, squint, clear the bags under his eyes- If there were any, you know... Magnus was always careful about getting his beauty sleep, not that he needed it, oh ho ho.- For all purposes, Magnus was... Totally fine. Lying to himself had worked. Sure, it had taken a little while, but... Hey, whatever, right? He could ignore his eyes, and everything horrible they had caused him. Too bad for Magnus his life could never be that easy on him.

"Your eyes. You're doing something with your eyes." A particular dark-haired, blue-eyed boy accused roughly. It wasn't odd that he was coming over in the middle of the night still, but Magnus continued to wish he would have some fair warning, so that he could at least be prepared to not wake up so early the next day. His sleep was seriously being cut into, here. Every night, Alec insisted on coming over and accusing Magnus of some other magic being done on him to make him come here without thinking. His eyes, his fingers, hair, the glitter on his face... Apparently, his everyday wear was out to get him. It was about two weeks since his little party, held for a cat which frolicked off at the sight of people. Stupid fuzzball only wanted silence on his birthday- How totally unfestive of him. Magnus raised an eyebrow at Alec, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.

"I assure you, Alec. If I was doing something with my eyes, you would know. Why, is there something wrong with them? Besides their obvious beauty and mysterious depths which they hold, of course." the warlock countered, pursing his lips. It was to the point where he could reference his eyes, and no one would be the wiser to what he really meant. My, was he a great warlock or what? But, no, he wasn't doing something with his eyes. Damn it all if he didn't wish he was. That way it was implied he could turn it on and off. As it was, Alec was just trying to find reasons that he was drawn to him, and Magnus wasn't minding his sudden arrivals _too_ much. Except for the cutting in on his sleep... thing.

Magnus _did_ wish that Alec would just hurry up and understand the situation that he had a hot man-crush on the warlock, so that they could get to the fun. Or maybe they could go slower. This was a whole new thing to the Magnificent Magnus Bane, really. This... wanting for an actual relationship. Could that be what this was? With a silly little Shadowhunter who couldn't even come out to his sister, nonetheless be with another man? Usually, by now, he would have pulled a, 'Move it or lose it' line, but for some reason, Magnus was feeling just as drawn to the boy as Alec was to him. For some reason, Magnus didn't want to scare the boy away. But, unlike Alec, he knew right away what drew him to the little Shadowhunter with the fair skin and dark hair...

His eyes. The same thing that he hated on himself, he adored in this boy. Perfect, beautiful blue eyes, that seemed to shine as though made of sapphire, holding within them such a kind, gentle, caring persona... Although, Magnus could tell, not one Alec seemed willing to share so easily. You don't live for seven-hundred years without learning how to read even the most guarded Shadowhunter or demon-raiser. Particularly in Magnus's case, when he was walking such a careful precipice between good and evil. But those eyes in particular had a special shred of humanity which Magnus just wanted to coddle, and protect, do anything for. Listen to him! He was seven-hundred years old, had never had a long-lasting relationship in his life, and was a notorious playboy swinger. Who was he to go into deep prose about how pretty this boy's eyes were? How irritating this all was, and how easily the problem could have been avoided, if Alec just got the point.

However, it was then that Alec slumped over and took a seat on his pretty couch, head in his hands. Clearly his joke hadn't gone over so well. Odd. Usually compliments about himself made people turn into goo or nod wisely in appreciation of the truth. Huh. "Could you be _serious_?" Alec pleaded, looking up, those pretty blue eyes appearing tortured behind their initial beauty. That was always a sad thing to see, someone so pretty being so sad. It always broke his heart. Magnus, of course, responded in a not-quite unusual manner, despite the boy's rather tormented disposition.

"It isn't usually in my personality, but I suppose there could be a first time for everything," the warlock drawled, in lieu of any real sympathy coming from within. Rather than being a total wallflower, the thin man decided to settle his pretty self on... Well, a different wall, to be honest. But this one was close to the couch, where the pretty little Shadowhunter boy was going through the woes of teenager-dom. Or whatever that was called. Once more, a quirk to the eyebrow was given, and when the boy groaned in frustration and gave him an accusing look, an glittery wink was thrown at him. Oh, he had been asleep, true. But that didn't mean that he wasn't able to throw his hair up and douse himself in the usual twelve pounds of glitter before answering the door, feet still clad in slippers. Looks came before clothes. Besides, Magnus was really good looking, he could pretty much pull off anything. After more horrible self-loathing on the kid's part, Magnus groaned and slid onto the couch with the boy, looking a bit annoyed.

One could never say that Magnus was very patient, or had ever claimed to be. He wanted what he did, and he wanted it right then and there. "How about this," he drawled in a bored manner, casting a look at the boy who glanced up, frowning a little bit as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Oh, sure, Magnus's childhood had been annoying. But there was nothing like being told you'll probably die by age twenty to get you paranoid at the start of one's existence. At least that wasn't the case for Magnus, hah. "You can just sit there and look cute, and I'll do somethin'. If you still think it's my enrapturing eyes, then by all means, you can say so. If it helps you formulate any more bright ideas, you're welcome to say those, too. Got it?" Alec looked confused, eyebrows furrowing- Aw, he was adorable when he did that. And when he pouted, and got mad, and was happy, and that one time, at his party, when he laughed and... Woah, woah, Magnus. Chill out, no fanboying after the Shadowhunter, huh?- and he seemed about to say something, when Magnus scoffed, "Oh, no you don't." he insisted.

If he had let Alec talk, who _knows_ how long they would have been sitting there arguing method. The kid was so damned sheltered and spazoid, he just needed a smack in the face to help him get things in perspective, right? Magnus was all too willing to be the hand initiating that smack. Oh, ho, ho. Before the pretty little hunter of demons and the like- _Magnus's_ like, actually, hah.- had a chance to bicker or argue about technicalities or lay down any sort of rules, Magnus bent over and promptly tilted Alec's chin with a dainty hand, claiming that argumentative mouth with his... well, equally as controversial. The kiss was only really meant to be a wake up call to the oblivious boy, the hand moving from his chin to the younger boy's shoulder. In fact, Magnus was preparing to back off and note how that worked before he felt it, just the slightest shift under his own mouth... A returned kiss? Oh, ho, ho! This was good stuff! Of course, he couldn't let it continue without first letting Alec consent that Magnus knew all, was a fabulous kisser, and would be more than a likely candidate for the demon killer's love. How romantic would that be? So, fancying himself a thespian when it came to theater, Magnus broke the kiss, eyebrow raising expectantly at the momentarily shell shocked boy, who stood and put his fingers to his lips, silent, looking like someone just told him Clary and Jace were brother and sister or something. Yeah, that's right. Damn surprised.

"Definitely the eyes," Alec mumbled to himself under his breath, fingers still at his mouth while he gaze Magnus another once-over. For about the fifth time, but. Still, right? "Yeah, the eyes. Definitely." he finished.

Sitting back, Magnus watched Alec give an awkward excuse for why he had to go ('I, uh. I have to go sew my shoes. They're, uh. Unstitched.') before showing himself the door, lips lifted in a smirk as he heard the door shut behind the boy. Shifting a bit, he tucked his arms behind his head. Well, shoot. Maybe his eyes weren't so bad, after all. Not if _they_ got to be the reason for _that._ In fact, Magnus may even start to consider them damn lucky. Let the fun begin, huh?

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Hi! This is definitely my first time writing a story for The Mortal Instruments of any kind, so... I hope I didn't butcher the characters too terribly much. 8D I just came on here and flipped through all the Alec/Magnus stuff, only to think, well... There still isn't enough of this couple! So I showed my love.

Comments/Critique/Praise/E-Cookies? All welcome! Just Read, Review, and Enjoy! 3 Thanks!


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